In Their Cell (LOST)
by bloooo-p
Summary: God had planted a seed of humanity into the world to see it grow. The seed bloomed into beings, like us, and from there, the world began to darken. What once was full of love riddled with greed, envy and hatred. God then made a choice: He sent a party to their deaths, onto a deserted island, an experiment like no other. Strangers became laboratory rats, stuck in their petty cells.


It was a beautiful morning, beautiful for a flight.

An immaculate machine stretched proudly by the airport, bearing the logo and name of Elysium Airlines. Luggage – wee suitcases and sturdy bags – was being arranged delicately into the depths of its storage, while the morn's heat massed into a displeasing weight. The queue forming round and about the entrance churned to present tickets and passports, and all three hundred and seven passengers stood, smiling through sleepy minds alike. The journey seemed promising: the people smiled, the babes gurgled, the children darted to and fro, or retired into a technological device of some sort, be it a computer, or a game, or a bearer of music blasting noisily through headphones. Couples held hands, parents buried kisses into their child's hair, and lonely souls weighed their thoughts, or contemplated the clear skies. Promising, indeed.

The journey from Sydney to Los Angeles had been going miraculously well. Passengers boarded, rested in their assigned seats, flicking through offered magazines and journals. Drinks were distributed, accompanied by mere snacks, followed shortly by a meal. That day, the choice had been either chicken, escorted by a muddy complexion of rice, or lamb chops attired in a dubious-looking sauce. Champagne glasses rang pleasantly in the first class, and each seat bore its own screen, escorted with a variety of movies to satisfy the passengers. Light, grayish mint-colored blankets were supplied, as well as pillows and masks. By early noon, the cries of agitated children have died out in the silence, and flight attendants watched as the people in their multitudes droned into something intangible. In the twenty-second row, a young couple slept soundly, whereas a hushed argument had erupted between a husband and wife a dozen of rows ahead. In the rear, a mother and her child gesticulated in the direction of the father, who watched them with a merry smile from afar. Further ahead sat a woman, with a dream clouding her pretty eyes. That moment had been the paragon of calm.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the fasten seat belts sign. We are now crossing a zone of turbulence. Please return to your seats and keep your seat belts fastened. Thank you."_

Not yet far from Fiji, the plane began to encounter feeble turbulences, brief things that acted as murmurs into the wind. Things began to blur shortly after. The drinks began to tremble; the ground had started to quake. Then – a sudden thud, weighty but cut across after a moment. A few gasped, but worry drowned into an irksome silence. Minutes later – another. Longer, _harsher_. Some bags and coats fell out of their bounds onto the aisle. A dreaded wave of clumping followed. Oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. Terror began to settle. Then another, that lasted a dozen of long, anxious seconds. Unfortunate ones that have not fastened their seat belts when requested flew up into the air, smacked like ragdolls against the wall, limp and numb. The trolley that carried drinks and snacks lurched down the passageway, hitting the wall that separated the pilot's cabin from the rest of the cockpit.

_"Dear passengers, two of our – __**three**__ of our engines have failed. I – rest assured, we will try to land on the nearest area available to us, but for now, please – shit!"_

A few screams broke the ringing silence. Tears clouded the sight. Some tightened their grips onto their seat belts, and others found a right moment to recite prayers. All had reached for the oxygen masks. In came another stomp, and another, and another – whatever was left of the mechanism thrashed, and beat, and cried, and shrieked, and the world had turned black in just a few seconds. The tremors grew constant, and a frightful screech was heard from the end of the plane. Fear pulsed; fear drummed. Some had managed to understand that the tail section had been ripped off, discarded into the ocean blue. Things began to blur – the shaking seats, the blood that began to flow, the collapse of sanity, the agonizing dismay. One thought only united their minds: _"We're all doing to die."_

Another chain of cracks was heard, and the cockpit had been cast aside. An explosion resonated somewhere in the distance, and the fuselage darted through the air until it met the soft touch of golden sand. Things burst, melted into each other; clumps of metal sprouted into the surroundings, fumes rising from the remaining engines, the flames prancing on the graves. The world was not itself anymore: there was no sun, no smile, no warm hearth. Only a beach, and death, and fear.

The thought kept drumming through and through: "We're all going to die."


End file.
